


Three's A Party

by CookiesAndKatanas



Series: Fresh New Trash [1]
Category: The Yogscast
Genre: First Time, M/M, Urban Magic Yogs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-16
Updated: 2016-01-16
Packaged: 2018-05-14 06:34:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5733136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CookiesAndKatanas/pseuds/CookiesAndKatanas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Smith came into Ross’ life like wildfire, consuming him completely.</p><p>Trott came into Ross’ life like tide, pulling him in like undertow.</p><p>Ross stays in their lives as an anchor, the steady rock they need.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three's A Party

**Author's Note:**

> title from a Warhol quote, a spin on that old saying "two is company..."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To sin is human. Ross isn’t human, but he’d give anything to live like one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title taken from the song Portions for Foxes by Rilo Kiley, which is just about the most early days Garbage Court Ross thing I've ever heard, and was playing nonstop as I worked on this, god bless that song

     Smith was warm and soft in Ross’s lap, a welcome weight against his legs and lips. Their bare chests were flush, and the warm pliability of Smith so close sent shivers up Ross’ spine.

     Smith rolled his hips down into Ross’, and murmured against his lips, “Wanna fuck?”

     Ross smacked his arm on reflex for the language, and said stiffly, “You know we can’t have kids.” 

     Smith smirked at him, ignoring the out, and said, “Yeah, that’d kill the mood a bit if that might happen.” After a pause he continued, “Mate, those are rules for humans. Dumb, religious humans. Are you human?”

     Ross glanced down, flashes going through his mind of people on the street laughing and singing and loving. He waited, expected Smith to continue over his rhetorical question. When the silence dragged on, Ross answered, petulance clear in his voice,  “....no.”

     Smith lifted his chin and met his eyes. “We’re more than them. We make our own rules, mate. And our rules let us do what we want. Do you want this?”

     Ross looked away again. He’d never wanted anything more in his life. But he’d never sinned, not once. He’d always been as pure as he could be. Sinning was… unthinkable. 

     But humans sinned, even the very first, and the church treated them so much more warmly than they ever did him. He wasn’t human, but he wanted to be, so maybe he should have started acting like it a long time ago.

     He nodded hesitantly, looked at Smith, and resolved his confidence. In a stronger voice, he said, “Yeah,” and pulled Smith into another kiss. 

     Smith grinned into the kiss, not expecting his first stab into the many holes of Ross’ logic to work. He slowly tipped them back so they were laying back on the mattress, and Ross shifted up towards the center, freeing his tail from their weight. 

     Smith undid his belt and scrambled to get his pants off his legs at the foot of the bed. The choreographed smoothness that he put on for his prey was gone, it was all miles different from this. He grabbed a foil lube packet from a pocket before kicking his pants away and straddling Ross again.

     Ross looked it over with curiosity as Smith tore off a corner and smeared some lube across his fingers. He opened mouth to ask what it is when Smith started slowly jacking him off.

     And Ross wasn’t completely inexperienced, he’d been curious before! Sometimes his dick had ached late at night when he pictured Smith’s body(how it was sculpted from an artist more talented than the one that made him and it was so amazing because Smith  _ was  _ that artist). He had experimented with careful movements, analyzing the flutter of his stomach and the peculiar sensation that slowly built low in his stomach. He went for as long it took him to realize that he had been  _ masturbating _ , and he immediately stopped.

     Smith’s hand on his cock was nothing like those curious cautious touches, it was slick and warm and soft around him. He couldn’t help but gasping, and moaning quietly as he rocked upwards into Smith’s hand. 

     Smith leaned down and kissed him on his open mouth, and it was sloppier than earlier, not like Smith had taught him weeks before, but just as good, maybe even better. It seemed like just seconds later that Smith pulled back, reaching behind himself with his slicked up hand to finger himself open. He rocked his hips into it, putting on a show and basking in the way Ross watched him with something close to adoration in his eyes. He moved fast, not willing to take a second longer than he had to, and he teetered on the edge of where the stretch turned to pain.

     When he sunk down onto Ross’ cock it was worth it, the first of moment of penetration always like sighing out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. And Ross’  _ face _ , christ, even better, his head thrown back in pleasure, hands slightly too tight on his hips, tail wrapped around his thigh, a long drawn out moan leaving his lips.

     Smith had been people’s first (and last) before, but none of them were quite so beautiful, so absolutely  _ wrecked _ . There was a twinge of possessiveness in his chest, a whisper that said  _ mine, mine, mine, no one else’s, not ever _ . It was different from the possessiveness he got with his prey.

     He started moving to the pace Ross set, and watched as he tried and failed to collect himself. He watched the hazy way Ross’ eyes unfocused but stayed on him. He felt the way the muscles in Ross’ arms jumped when he shifted forward, changing the pressure around his cock. Ross’ shuddery breath when their lips met sent heat down his spine and he pressed into him harder. Ross’ lips barely had any give to them, and the roughness of the kiss made Smith want to bite at him.

     His movements had slowed while he was kissing Ross, but he straightened up and started riding him again in earnest, hitting a rhythm and angle he liked. Ross managed to match it, and it took Smith a moment to realize when his thrusts got erratic, so caught up in the easy rush of sensation. Ross came under him, his mouth open, breath catching, back arching. Smith thought he was stunning before, he was indescribable in this moment, and it took his breath away.

     Smith let him ride out his orgasm, rolling his hips in time with the way his hips jerked up. He briefly considered guiding Ross into a blowjob, but another moment looking at the dazed expression on his face and he decided against it.

     He stroked himself in the way he knew got him off quick, a sharp twist of his wrist on every upstroke. He watched Ross’ blissed out expression through half lidded eyes, and the same primal place in his mind said again,  _ mine. _

     He came across Ross’ stomach with a gasp, and took a moment to enjoy the afterglow before lifting himself off him. He fetched his discarded shirt and cleaned them both up while Ross watched him tiredly. It was just starting to get warm enough out that he could go without the tee under his jacket.

     While he shimmied back into his jeans, Ross said softly, “Your eyes flash green.”

     Smith paused and looked over at Ross’ open expression. He said it so simply, a statement of fact and no questions attached. Smith shrugged and replied, “It happens sometimes.”

     He buttoned up his pants and stretched himself out on the mattress. As he pressed himself close to Ross, he said, “I haven’t seen it happen before though. Does it just happen when- when you have- have sex?” 

     Smith had to stifle a laugh at the sheepish, awkward expression on Ross’ face. “It just happens mate, there’s a ton of reasons.” Smith propped himself up on an elbow and tilted his face towards him. They kissed lazily for a while more, until Smith draped himself across Ross’ chest and rested his eyes for a while.

 

     When Smith finally got up and put on his jacket, Ross and the sad droop of his tail caught his eye. “Ross, you don’t have to stay here anymore, you know?” Ross looked at him like he was stupid, and Smith stifled the tense, defensive reaction he felt flare up. “They’ve all died. They left you here alone. You’re not meant to protect what some dead humans-”

     “Yes I am, Smith.” Ross interrupted. His voice was hard, but his expression sad.

     The amount of sense he wasn’t making was infuriating, and Smith snapped, “Ross, you can come with me-”  

     Ross shook his head and smiled. “You know I can’t, mate. I’ll see you next time around.”

     Smith opened his mouth to say more, but Ross had already turned towards the belfry to watch him drive down the street.

 

     When Ross came back downstairs the next morning, he took a deep breath, the faint scent of sex and sweat and Smith lingering. He approached the balcony railing, but a small red square caught his eye from the staircase. He ambled over, and picked up a matchbook that Smith must have dropped when he was leaving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ive been thinking far too much about early days GC Ross so i finally started writing it 
> 
> writing has been hard these past few months, but this is the first smut Ive ever written, so I'm pleased with my progress. more updates are on their way, i have at least half of a new chapter for each of the works in this series. 
> 
> thanks @ theo for looking this over and telling me to get my shit together
> 
> find me on tumblr at [cookiesandkatanas](cookiesandkatanas.tumblr.com/)


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